


How to put a sad boy to sleep

by punygod



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Keith (Voltron), M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-01
Updated: 2020-11-01
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27318892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punygod/pseuds/punygod
Summary: Shiro intends to take Keith apart in many more ways than a simulated fight dummy could even imagine.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 53





	How to put a sad boy to sleep

“Where are you going?” Shiro shuts off his tablet, darkening the bedroom fractionally. Keith’s silhouette stands stark against the hallway light, his gym bag hanging incriminatingly from one shoulder. 

“Just gonna train for a bit. I’ll be back later.”

“It’s almost midnight. Come to bed.” 

Keith hesitates, but only in the way where he’s unsure how to tell Shiro no, not because he’s suddenly uncertain of what he should do. He’s still going to that gym. 

The hesitation is enough of a no for Shiro, and he carefully sets his tablet on the bedside table and slides off onto the edge of the bed. His toes sink into the fluffy rug that covers half the floor of the bedroom. His sleep pants are soft and loose and always struggle to hold onto his hips due to old and overused drawstrings. He never wears a shirt to bed, at least not anymore, now that Keith’s seen everything there is to see about him, and the scars are less something to be self-conscious about and serve more as a reminder of how lucky he is to still be here, and have this. This, being Keith.

“Come here.” Whatever it is about this invitation that is different from the last, it does more than make Keith hesitate. It has him dropping the bag at his feet, by the door where he stood, and has his feet carry him over to Shiro, on the bed. The right side of Shiro’s face is always accompanied by the turquoise glow of his mechanic arm, and Keith can’t help but place his palm on Shiro’s cheek, the glow now falling over his hand instead. Shiro’s eyes still reflect the blue, and the concern Keith can feel radiating from him. 

“I’m fine… Just got some things on my mind I want to clear out.” 

Keith withdraws from time to time. He does it a hell of a lot less often now, with Shiro, but there are days that Shiro knows to just give Keith his space. Neither of them pretend that they’re okay. They’ve been through too much, both separately, and then together, to be under the illusion that any therapeutically advised coping mechanism was going to work for them. So they do their best. 

“And you think punching a training dummy into oblivion is the best way to forget?” Shiro looks up at Keith, hand holding the back of his leg, moving higher to his hip, fingers catching on the waistband of his workout shorts. 

“Are you offering me another option?”

Shiro smiles like he’s got his own private joke, and pulls Keith closer. Shiro’s nose presses into Keith’s lower belly and he haphazardly lifts away t-shirt material to get to soft skin. Keith’s skin isn’t smooth, and by now, Shiro’s tongue knows the map of scars that decorate Keith’s body. So his lips brushing over the rough, pinkish mark that extends from Keith’s hipbone to the spot where his happy trail gets a bit thicker isn’t new. It’s almost a welcome home; my damage and I have been waiting for you. 

Shiro chances a glance up at Keith. His lips are parted, anticipating, and there’s a slight blush across his cheeks that he would’ve had if this was his warm up to train. Shiro intends to take Keith apart in many more ways than a simulated fight dummy could even imagine.

He drags Keith’s shorts and underwear down with a hook of his finger, slow enough to keep time with the wettish kisses he’s placing down Keith’s abdomen. He pauses almost at his destination, extra effort needed to stretch the waistbands down past Keith’s growing erection. When the clothes finally drop away, and Keith helpfully holds his t-shirt up from falling into Shiro’s face, pressing forward because he’s impatient for something he hadn’t even thought he’d wanted all of two minutes ago, Shiro drags his tongue in a wet stripe up Keith’s cock, and then takes him completely into his mouth. 

The noise Keith makes is a combination of surprise and pleasure, and his hand slides into Shiro’s hair not to guide him anywhere but to have something to hold onto. “Shiro…”he says, like he’s giving a warning. He isn’t still thinking about going to train, is he?

The best part about catching Keith by surprise is that Shiro can feel him fill up in his mouth; he’s hard with two purposeful drags of Shiro’s tongue, and breathing hard not soon after that. Shiro doesn’t tease. It’s not one of those nights. This night is about giving Keith what he needs, when he needs it, and enough of it that he’s not going to need anything else for the rest of the night. Keith’s not used to it, Shiro being so efficient. More often than not, Shiro is slow and disguises the torture as being careful but really it’s because he gets a kick out of seeing Keith strung out on the precipice, begging to be pushed over. Begging usually works. But tonight, Keith doesn’t even have to ask. 

It gets messy quick, saliva and precum making the drag of Shiro’s mouth over Keith’s cock slick and smooth, a heavenly heat that Keith would fuck into if it weren’t for the iron grip on his hip holding him in place as Shiro’s mouth fucks him instead. There’s no slow moment, no pause for Shiro to catch his breath which means no pause for Keith’s orgasm to build and subside, build and subside – it rises quickly and forcefully and his fingers grip tightly into Shiro’s hair as warning. Shiro takes him down and doesn’t move away when he feels Keith’s cock pulsing, the muscles of his throat working to swallow down the cum that hits the back of it. 

Keith sags, hand slipping from Shiro’s hair to his shoulder to find something that was going to help him stay up. When Shiro pulls off, his lips are pink and wet. His hair’s messy from Keith’s fingers.  
Keith breathes out. “That was -”

“I’m not done.”


End file.
